


Losing to Marcus

by EerieBarbarian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Belts, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Chair Sex, Choking, Collars, Come Eating, Control, Ice Play, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Wet & Messy, Whipping, bullwhip, messy blow job
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EerieBarbarian/pseuds/EerieBarbarian
Summary: Oliver Wood hates losing to Marcus Flint. But when he takes a teaching post at Hogwart's, he might lose more than he planned.
Relationships: Background HarryPotter/Draco Malfoy, Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 173
Collections: TDP Random Prompt Challenge March 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own these characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling. I merely created the situation.

There was only one thing Oliver hated more than losing and that was losing to Marcus Flint. He had thought that he'd finally won. They'd both applied as flying instructors at Hogwart's. When the post was delivered and Oliver got the letter from McGonagall offering him the position, he had rejoiced. He had beat Flint one last time. 

Imagine his disappointment when he arrived before the start of term to see a very smug Marcus Flint at the staff table. He chuckled at something Theo Nott said before smirking at the surprise on Oliver's face. 

As the headmistress introduced everyone, he discovered that Flint would be assisting Longbottom in the greenhouses in addition to picking up the overflow of students for Oliver's flying lessons. 

Oliver was further disappointed to discover that his quarters were right next to Flint's. He'd have to see his annoying face everywhere. It definitely didn't help that Flint had finally grown into his features and had his teeth fixed. As he pushed past Oliver to get to his quarters, he smiled down at the shorter man. 

A discontented growl rumbled in Oliver's chest causing Flint to pause before entering his room. He stepped into Oliver's personal space and sneered down at him. "Is there a problem, Wood?"

Oliver resisted the urge to step back. He crowded into Flint's space until their chests were touching. "You shoving by me is the problem."

"Considering that you've been staring at me all day, I thought maybe you wanted me to touch you," Flint smirked. "Not to mention the fact that you're willingly touching me now." He looked down quickly to where their chests were pressed together before leaning his face close to Oliver's ear. One hand rested on his hip, not pulling him closer but not letting him back up. "I would have thought that you wouldn't mind a bit of rough handling," he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of Oliver's ear. 

Oliver shivered before he could regain control of himself. "You don't know anything about me, Flint." 

His breath caught as he was shoved against the door to his quarters. His hands were pinned over his head and a thigh pressed between his legs kept him from getting loose. "Do not lie to my face, Oliver," Flint hissed. "You and I know each other better than anyone else. I spent years learning how to best you and I know you did the same. I know what you want more than you know it." His voice was a harsh whisper against Oliver's neck. He pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. "You know where to find me when you realize I'm right." 

He moved away and slammed his door, leaving Oliver feeling confused. His heart raced as he stepped into his own quarters. He paced the small, cozy space trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. 

He should have pushed him away. He should have punched him in the face. He should have ignored Flint and stayed in his own quarters. But he couldn't do any of those things. He couldn't stop his feet from carrying him into the corridor and he couldn't stop his hand from knocking on the door. 

He found his shoes to be very interesting as the door was opened to reveal Marcus wearing only a pair of low slung pajama bottoms. When Oliver looked up, his eyes lingering on strong muscles and tattoos, Flint was smiling at him. He turned his back, leaving the door open as he walked away. 

Oliver sighed heavily, feeling annoyed at himself this time. He had just lost to Marcus Flint again. 


	2. Anticipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver is unsure of himself and his wants as he steps into Marcus's rooms, but Marcus knows exactly what he wants and he has a few surprises for Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is smutty. Like a lot. So if you don't want to read about two hot guys getting it on, please leave so that someone else can have your seat. Thank you. I hope you enjoy it.

Oliver stood silently, fidgeting with his robes. He was trying to look at anything other than the flexing and bunching of muscles in Marcus's back as he poured them each two fingers of scotch. "Ice or no?" he asked over his shoulder. 

"Ice," Oliver whispered. He should go back to his room. Definitely. He shouldn't have come. Why had he? This was not a good idea. 

Marcus placed the drinks on the table and stepped into Oliver's space. He pulled his robes free from his hand. "You may as well take these off," he breathed, his voice husky and eyes full of hunger. "We both know you won't be needing them." Taking a fistful of Oliver's robes, he pulled him closer. His free hand gripped Oliver's neck, pulling him up into a fierce kiss. He sucked Oliver’s lower lip into his mouth, drawing a gasping moan from the sandy haired man. He nipped and bit at his swollen lip, using it to pull him closer while still maintaining the grip on his robes. He broke away suddenly, a devilish grin on his face. “The robes might be handy, after all.” He moved to sit on the large, grey sofa casually ignoring that his erection was tenting his pajama pants. “Although they’re handy, I prefer the robes off. You can hang them there by the door. Your shirt and trousers need to be neatly folded on the arm of the chair. I don’t like messy things, Oliver.” 

As he stood there, filled with indecision, Marcus sipped his scotch. He appeared at ease and in control. Oliver had never had anyone talk to him in such a way. He was unsure of how he should feel about it, but a part of him definitely liked it. He could walk away now. Go back to his rooms and pretend this had never happened. Or he could slip out of his robes and see what other surprises Marcus had in store. He was still unsure as he slipped his robes off of his shoulders and hung them by the door. He kicked his shoes off and placed them beside Marcus’s before removing his trousers and folding them neatly. He stepped over to place them on the arm of the chair and noticed Marcus watching him. 

He started undoing the buttons on his shirt, trying to ignore the dark, hungry gaze that was lingering on him. “Stop,” Marcus rasped, drawing his attention. “You’re going too quickly. Slow down and continue.” He could feel himself growing hard, the thin cotton of his pants stretching across his growing erection. He finally undid the last button and slid the shirt off exposing his broad shoulders and toned physique to Marcus’s lust filled gaze. He folded the shirt and placed it on top of his trousers. “Come here,” Marcus said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He handed him a glass of scotch, the ice clinking as he took it. “I hate to waste good scotch so drink up.” He sipped it slowly as he stood there, Marcus staring up at him. “Is it good?”

“Yes,” Oliver whispered. Marcus quirked an eyebrow as though he was waiting for something. “Thank you.” That seemed to please him enough to relax again. Oliver took another sip, closing his eyes to savour it. With his eyes closed, he missed Marcus’s movement and was taken by surprise when warm hands started removing his pants. “What are you doing?”

“I should think it fairly obvious,” Marcus chuckled. “You did say you prefer ice, correct?” He threw back the rest of his drink and took an ice cube from the glass. He ran it slowly across his full lips, smiling as Oliver stared, before popping the ice cube into his mouth. He grabbed Oliver’s hip and pulled him closer to the couch, wrapping his cold lips around the shaft of his prick before he could react. Oliver moaned out loud. The cold lips warmed quickly against his overheated cock, but the sensation of Marcus’s hot mouth and the cold ice were almost more than he could stand. His knees felt weak as the other man started to bob his head, sucking him in deeper. As the ice melted, it dribbled down Marcus’s chin and Oliver’s leg. It was the wettest blow job he’d ever had. 

He could feel Marcus chuckling around his prick as he started to lose control, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He should have cared because Marcus had another surprise for him. Using the melted ice and spit, Marcus probed a finger against Oliver’s asshole. Gently exploring until he could easily slip his finger in. The surprise had brought Oliver back from the edge enough to focus, but the gentle finger sliding in and out of his ass was quickly taking him back. The finger was removed just as suddenly and replaced with another ice cube. The cold sensation was overwhelming until Marcus slipped two fingers in with it. Oliver could barely stand any longer, his legs quivering unsteadily. 

Marcus pulled away from him suddenly with a slurping pop as he released Oliver’s swollen prick. He pulled Oliver close into an unexpected hug, “You’re doing so well,” he whispered into Oliver’s ear. He picked him up easily and carried him into his bedroom. Oliver attempted to climb up the bed, but Marcus stopped him by pulling his hips backward. He quickly lubed his fingers and worked them back into Oliver, adding a third when Oliver started rocking back onto his hand. Oliver was surprisingly close to cumming when a warm hand slapped the side of his ass. It was sudden and painful, but when Marcus started slowly massaging the sting away it felt amazing. Another smack followed by more massaging had him squirming with pleasure. “Your skin holds color so well, pet,” Marcus purred above him. He removed his fingers gaining a whine from Oliver that brought a smile to his lips. “It’s alright, pet. I’ll take care of you.” 

Lining his cock up, Marcus slowly pressed into him. Inch by torturous inch. Oliver thought he might go mad from the anticipation. He tried to rock back, but strong hands stopped him. “Slow down,” Marcus crooned by his ear. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He slowly started moving, thrusting in and pulling out at an annoyingly slow pace. Oliver was going insane, how could he be so controlled? He tried to rock back quickly to encourage Marcus to go faster. A double smack on the untouched side of his ass reminded him that he was not in charge. “You are so greedy,” Marcus chuckled as he massaged the sting away. “Do you want it faster and harder, my pet?”

“Gods yes,” Oliver moaned. His voice sounded whiny and needy to his own ears, but he didn’t care. He wanted to cum and Marcus kept him lingering so close to the edge. He was going mad. 

“Tell me that I was right about you,” Marcus said. His voice still calm and unwavering. “Tell me that I was right and I’ll fuck you into the bed until you scream my name.”

“Fuck,” Oliver moaned. “Yes. You were right.” He was panting and desperate. “You were right. Please,” he whined. “Please.”

Marcus pulled out and flipped Oliver over onto his back. Lifting his leg over his shoulder, he slammed back in. Thrusting deep and hard. Oliver’s back arched as Marcus fucked him hard and fast. He was so close. Long, strong fingers wrapped around his throat causing him to gasp with surprise. He looked up to see a devilish grin on Marcus’s face. “You will look at me when you come. I want you to see that you are mine now.” At the harsh words and with the unexpected grip on his throat, Oliver’s orgasm ripped through him.

Jets of hot cum sprayed across Marcus’s abs, smearing in between them. Oliver didn’t recognize his own voice as he cried Marcus’s name over and over. Marcus pulled his hand away from his throat and drew his thumb through the cum. He sucked it into his own mouth before doing it again and shoving it into Oliver’s mouth. When Oliver sucked his thumb without protest, he finally let go. Cumming deep inside the other man, his muscles tightening in a way that Oliver found entirely too fascinating before collapsing on top of him. 

They lay like that for awhile. Oliver was unsure how long, but the cum between them had started to cool. Marcus got up and went into the bathroom. Oliver was unsurprised to hear water running. He was surprised, however, when Marcus came back to get him. He helped him stand slowly, making sure he was steady on his feet before taking him into the bathroom. As he turned to check the temperature of the shower, Oliver examined his reflection in the mirror. He had bruising along his bottom lip where Marcus had bitten him. Apparently one tooth was still a bit crooked as it had bruised out of line with the other teeth. 

Marcus pulled him under the spray of hot water, gently washing the ache out of his muscles. He had expected Marcus to be rough and hard. He wasn’t prepared for this gentle side. When he was clean and relaxed, Marcus washed quickly and took him back to the bed. After a few quick cleaning spells, Marcus tucked Oliver into the comfortable bed. He pulled him close, cuddling up to him and whispering soft words. He fell asleep to those comforting words. Telling him how strong he was, how handsome and kind. That he was such a good boy. 

He woke up feeling so warm. Strong arms were wrapped around him, cuddling him close. The only bothersome thing was a persistent knocking that he couldn’t pinpoint. “Fuck,” Marcus groaned beside him. “We don’t have to report until eleven. What do they want?” He growled as he crawled out of bed and pulled on his pajama bottoms. “I’m coming,” he yelled towards the living room. “Or at least I will be soon,” he smirked at Oliver. He tossed a pair of pajama bottoms at Oliver before heading to the door, not bothering to put a shirt on. 

Oliver could hear Professor McGonagall’s voice in the corridor. “Mr. Flint, have you seen Mr. Wood? He doesn't appear to be in his room and I can't locate him. I need his opinion on the school brooms. I think we need newer models, but I’d prefer his opinion on which ones to order.”

“Yes, Headmistress. He’s right here,” he turned around, motioning for her to follow. “Ollie, the Headmistress would like to see you,” he called into the bedroom. He looked like the devil when he smiled at the blush staining Oliver’s cheeks. 

A slight widening of her eyes was the only indication that the headmistress was surprised to see Oliver coming out of Marcus’s room, rumpled from sleep. He had forgotten about the bruising on his lip until he saw her looking at it. “I would like to request your assistance with some brooms. Perhaps you could meet me in my office in an hour. That should give you time to prepare for the day.”

“Um, yea. Yes. Headmistress,” Oliver stammered. “I’d be happy to help.” She nodded her goodbyes and left the two men alone. “You’re an asshole,” Oliver muttered, throwing a pillow at Marcus’s head. 

He caught it and set it down, pulling Oliver into his arms. “I know,” he shrugged. “But you like it.” He caught Oliver’s lips in a quick but fierce kiss and pulled him towards the bedroom. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver protested weakly. “I have to meet McGonagall in an hour. 

“That gives us plenty of time.” 


	3. Conditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus wants to discuss his conditions for their relationship. 
> 
> More smut. Just saying.

Oliver was almost late meeting with the headmistress thanks to Marcus. He had a decided it would be faster to fuck Oliver against the wall in the shower. Before letting him leave to get clean clothes, he’d made him promise to join him for dinner. 

“Mr. Wood,” the headmistress said as he entered her office. “Please have a seat.” Oliver thought about the tenderness in his bum and sat gingerly. McGonagall gave him an odd look before opening a catalog on her desk. “It is not my business what you do in your personal time, Mr. Wood, but I should hope that I won’t have to discuss professionalism with you or Mr. Flint?” 

“Of course not, Headmistress,” Oliver gasped. “Outside of our private quarters we are professors first and I know that I am expected to set an example.”

“I’m very glad to hear it,” she sighed, seemingly relieved. “Now, let’s get to it.” At that she began flipping through the catalog. 

It didn’t take long for them to decide on affordable brooms that they agreed on and Oliver soon found himself back in his rooms, jotting out lesson plans. He was debating on a quick nap before lunch when he heard a soft knocking on his door. “It’s open,” he called out. The door clicked open and Marcus sauntered in like he owned the room. “Can I help you?”

“I should certainly hope so,” he smirked. He looked around at Oliver’s things. His furniture was very dark and minimalist. Oliver’s was plaid and overstuffed, making the room look cozy. He sat in the chair like a king on a throne. 

“So what exactly can I help you with?” Oliver snarked. He wanted to finish his lesson plans so that he could start reorganizing the broom shed. He had to make room for the new brooms and make arrangements to have the old ones picked up. 

Marcus looked at him for a moment. His steady, appraising gaze enough to make Oliver feel unsettled. “I enjoyed last night and this morning.” His voice was soft and sure. Oliver nodded his agreement, but Marcus spoke again before he could interrupt. “You joining me for dinner this evening, however, changes things a bit.”

“Changes things how, exactly?” Oliver was confused and getting a little annoyed. Marcus acted as though he had all the time in the world. 

“If we begin spending time together, it will change the dynamics of our relationship.” He hesitated again and Oliver saw it for what it was. Marcus was stalling because he was nervous. 

“Marcus,” Oliver started quietly, “I enjoyed last night as well. And this morning,” he chuckled. “I don’t want to go back to fighting with you.”

Marcus’s face lit up with a brief smile. “I’d like to get to know you properly, but I have conditions when I’m in a relationship.”

Oliver sighed and settled back further into the couch. “I’ll never know those conditions if you don’t tell me.”

“Well, then,” Marcus huffed. “I would enjoy controlling you. Very much.” He held up his hand to stop Oliver’s objections. “Not every aspect of your life. I’m not psychotic,” he chuckled. “Just your pleasure. I want to be the one that makes you cum. We would date and spend time together like a regular couple, but all of your orgasms will belong to me.”

Oliver swallowed heavily, his prick stirring as Marcus stared intently at him. “So, it would be like last night?”

Marcus shrugged and moved to sit next to Oliver on the couch. “Sometimes. It won’t be like that every time, but I do enjoy playing rough. Sometimes it will be harder than that. I like spanking and using belts.” He looked at Oliver intently. “I would love to see belt marks across your ass. Nothing permanent. Just enough to make it pink.”

Oliver didn’t know for sure how he felt about that, but the idea intrigued him. “I would be open to trying it,” he whispered, his voice husky. 

“I need to know that I can trust you and that you trust me,” Marcus said firmly. “For this to work, I have to know that you’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable. You have to trust me enough to know that I’ll stop when you ask me to.”

Oliver thought about it for several moments before settling on his answer. “I think I made my choice last night when I knocked on your door.” He smiled softly at Marcus, “I’m willing to trust you.” 

Marcus smiled brightly before crawling into his lap and straddling his legs. He captured his lips in a fierce kiss, biting and sucking on his lips and tongue. When he pulled away, Oliver leaned forward trying to chase his lips. He pushed him back into the couch, “Patience, pet. I have something for you.” He pulled a little box out of his pocket. As he opened it, a flash of silver caught Oliver’s eye. He slowly pulled a thin silver chain out of the box. “An actual collar would be a bit too obvious.” He held the charm on the end up so that Oliver could see it. The chain necklace had a little ring that looked suspiciously like a collar with a little emerald on it. “Will you wear this for me?” Oliver gave him a nod and he shook his head. “If you wear this, you will call me Sir when we are alone together.”

Oliver swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Yes, Sir,” he rasped. When Marcus smiled brightly at him, he knew he’d made a good choice. He had never been one to need anyone’s approval, but something about Marcus made him want to please him. 

Marcus slipped the chain over his head. Sliding his hands to Oliver’s waist, he tugged his shirt up and over his head. His fingers traced the skin where the little collar rested against Oliver’s tanned chest. “You are such a good pet, Ollie. So good for me. I think you deserve a treat.” He stood up and pulled lightly at the chain. Oliver stood up to follow. Marcus took his own shirt off and settled back into the chair. “Take your trousers and pants off and come sit in my lap.”

Oliver did as he was told, folding the trousers and placing them on the arm of the couch. When Marcus smiled his approval, he moved to straddle Marcus’s lap. Marcus grabbed his hips, stopping him. “Turn around and sit.” He turned and sat so that his back was against Marcus’s warm chest. “I know you’re probably still tender so I won’t be fucking you.” Oliver noticed that he’d pulled a small container out from somewhere. “Spread your legs apart onto the arms of the chair. I want to put this cream on you to help ease your soreness.” When Oliver had spread his legs enough to satisfy him, he opened the cream and slid his hand between Oliver’s legs to where his bum was on display to the empty room. The cream was smooth and slick. It warmed the skin wear it had been applied. Getting more cream, Marcus started working it into Oliver’s ass slowly.

Oliver groaned deeply, struggling to keep a grip on the arms of the chair. “Wrap your arms around my neck to hold on, pet.”

“Yes, Sir,” Oliver moaned as Marcus worked the warm cream into his ass. His cock had grown impossibly hard and Marcus’s arm was brushing against it, driving him mad. 

Marcus brought his free hand up to Oliver’s mouth. “Spit,” he said simply. Oliver didn’t stop to think why, he just did it. He spit into Marcus’s palm. “Good boy,” Marcus purred as he wrapped his slick palm around Oliver’s cock. He stroked him roughly, quickly pulling Oliver to the brink of an orgasm. His fingers working the warm cream gently in his ass while he rapidly stroked his prick had Oliver quivering in his arms. “Do you want to cum, pet?”

Oliver whined and groaned in pleasure. “Yes. Yes, Sir. Please, Sir,” he moaned, his voice needy. He was so close.

“Cum for me, pet,” Marcus purred. “Cum now.” Oliver’s abs contracted as hot jets of cum spilled over Marcus’s hand. His hips thrusting up to pump out every last bit that he could. Marcus let him sit there for a moment, catching his breath. “You are so perfect,” he chuckled low in Oliver’s ear. “So responsive.” He brought his hand up close to Oliver’s face. Cum sliding on his fingers. “You made such a mess, pet. I think you should clean it up.” He held his hand in front of Oliver’s face and waited. Oliver didn’t hesitate. He reached out to pull Marcus’s hand closer and started licking his cum from his hand. He sucked his fingers and licked between them until all of the cum was gone. It was more bitter than he expected, but not intolerable. “Fuck, you are perfection.” Marcus stood him up slowly, making sure that he was steady. He used his own shirt to wipe the cream from his other hand and to clean Oliver up. 

“You are not finished, Sir,” Oliver said softly as he noticed the bulge in Marcus’s jeans. “I would like to finish you, Sir.”

“Are you certain?” Marcus asked, thrilled that Oliver wanted to please him. Oliver got slowly to his knees and looked up at him before he started undoing his belt. He popped the button and lowered the zipper, carefully freeing Marcus’s prick. Marcus stopped him before he wrapped his lips around it. “Keep your hand on my hip. If I get too rough, give me a pinch.”

“Yes, Sir,” Oliver purred before wrapping his lips around Marcus’s throbbing cock. He set a slow pace at first, getting used to the size and girth in his mouth. It took him a little bit but he was soon able to take him in completely, Marcus moaning softly every time the head of his cock hit the back of Oliver’s throat. 

As he felt himself growing close, Marcus cupped the back of Oliver’s head. He pulled him forward and started thrusting, fucking his face hard and fast. Spit dribbled down Oliver’s chin, lewd slurping noises and the slapping of skin could be heard over Marcus’s groans of pleasure. He came hard, crying out as he emptied himself down Oliver’s throat. “Fuck,” he growled as he caught his breath. “You are truly amazing.” He pulled Oliver slowly to his feet. Wiping the spit from his chin, he kissed him deeply. He could taste the cum in his mouth and smiled as he pulled away. “Let’s get you cleaned up properly so that we can see about lunch.”


	4. Hay! Look Over There!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While moving hay bales with Hagrid, Marcus shows off a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it isn't obvious that I haven't edited any of this.
> 
> For some reason it seems to have altered the format when it posted. *shrugs* whatever

The following week had the student’s starting, leaving Oliver little time to spend with Marcus. Their relationship had progressed quickly to the point that they were sleeping together every night and using Oliver’s room as an office. A simple charm had allowed them to put a door between their living rooms so that they had easy access to their paperwork.  
The first Saturday after classes they met with Hagrid near the Forbidden Forest. They were helping him stack hay bales to insulate a covered shelter he was building for the thestrals. They apparently wouldn’t give birth near anything magical, so they had to move them all from the cart by hand. Oliver tried to ignore the way Marcus’s arms flexed as he hefted the heavy bales of hay, but it was proving difficult. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the three men started sweating and getting hotter. “Fuck it,” Marcus muttered before pulling his shirt over his head. Sweat glistened on his tattooed chest and back. His muscles flexed and bunched as he lifted another bale, tossing it with ease onto the stack.  
Oliver’s attention was pulled back to the present when a large handkerchief hit him in the face. “Ye can use tha’ ta wipe tha drool offa yer mouth there lad,” Hagrid roared with laughter as Oliver’s face turned beet red. “I ain’t seen that much staring since tha hippogriffs were in heat.” Oliver threw the handkerchief back at him, hitting him in the face. He couldn’t help but to laugh with Hagrid. It was impossible to be mad at him. Marcus was laughing so hard that he almost tipped over with the bale of hay that he was holding.  
It didn’t take long for Oliver to follow Marcus’s lead and shed his own shirt. At this point it was so soaked that he could see through it anyways. A loud rumbling a short while later indicated that it was time to take a break and have lunch. Hagrid seemed embarrassed until Macus’s stomach grumbled as well. Oliver turned to face the school to discover that they had an audience. A few of the older students had gathered in small groups across the grounds to watch them work. Giggling and whispering amongst each other. He was most surprised to see Matilda Merryweather(the new Muggle studies professor) and Hermione Granger (the new Transfigurations professor), sitting together and watching them work. Hermione gave him a little wave when she saw that he was looking. She started nodding emphatically and he was unsure why until a bucket of cold water was dumped over his head. The chase that followed caused large amounts of laughter from the watching students and professors.  
The two young men settled down quickly when they saw Hagrid get food from the house elves. They all ate quickly, making idle conversation as they enjoyed their meal. Oliver was about to get back to work when something caught his eye. A large bullwhip was coiled near Hagrid’s hut. He moved closer to look at it. It was simple black leather and the handle looked well worn. Hagrid saw him looking and walked over, taking it off of the hook.”Here,” he handed it to Oliver. “Ye wanna try it? It’s too short fer me and I ain’t never got much use fer it.”  
Oliver shook it out to it’s full length. He brought it up and tried to snap it, but it didn’t really work. Trying again, he frowned, “Maybe it’s too long for me.” He shrugged and handed it back to Hagrid.  
“It’s not the length that’s the problem,” Marcus said casually. “It’s all in the wrist.” He reached for the handle. When Hagrid passed it to him, he shook it out away from them. “What is it, about seven feet?” When Hagrid confirmed, he smiled mischievously, “It’s just right.” He chuckled as he walked a little ways away from them. He started circling the whip in the air above his head slowly at first, then quickly building momentum. It made a wonderful whistling sound as it sailed through the air. He snapped his arm forward quickly and flicked his wrist back. A loud ‘CRACK’ rang out, echoing across the grounds.  
Oliver had forgotten they had an audience until the students started clapping. “Do it again!” Several students called out. Hermione and Matilda had come closer to watch and he could see Harry making his way down as well.  
He ignored the others when Marcus looked at him, a hunger in his eyes that Oliver recognized all too well. “Well, Ollie,” Marcus said, his voice a little rougher than usual. “Shall I do it again?” He gave him the devilish little grin that indicated he was trying to wind him up.  
Oliver swallowed heavily and nodded, “Yea. Do it again.” He looked Marcus in the eye and mouthed the word ‘Sir’ so that Hagrid couldn’t hear. Marcus’s smile grew, lighting up his face. He circled the whip again, snapping it forward so that it cracked again gaining cheers from their little audience. He bowed dramatically to the students before rolling up the whip and trying to pass it back to Hagrid. When Hagrid told him to keep it, he tried to refuse but it ended up lying on his shirt anyways.  
Harry had reached them as they started to move hay again and quickly offered to help. “How’re the defense classes going, Harry?” Oliver asked casually before grabbing another bale.  
“Pretty well so far. The first day was difficult until I made it clear that we’d only be discussing the war from an educational standpoint when we get to that chapter in the book.” Harry shrugged, “After that it was smooth sailing.” He hefted a bale and moved it quickly. He was still kind of small, but stronger than he looked.  
“Might be able to get finished a bit faster if we keep at it, yea?” Marcus muttered as he walked by them. He glared at Harry suspiciously before grabbing another bale and going back to the paddock.  
Oliver rolled his eyes at the obvious jealousy. “Everything alright there?” Harry asked quietly, nodding to Marcus.  
“Yea,” Oliver shrugged. “It’s a new thing so I guess he’s a little jealous. I’ll talk to him about it later.”  
“Ahh, so that’s why I haven’t seen you around after classes much,” Harry chuckled. “That explains the bruise on your lip last week.” He chuckled as they went back to work.  
It didn’t take long for the four men to finish. Hagrid thanked them and told them all to come down for tea soon before he started moving the empty cart away. “Do you guys wanna join me and Draco for dinner. We’re heading into Hogsmeade to the Three Broomsticks with Hermione to celebrate making it through our first week with the students.”  
“You and Draco?” Marcus asked, his eyebrow raised in question. When Harry nodded, he barked out a laugh. “It’s about damn time. You’re the only one he ever talked about. Drove the rest of us crazy.” He looked at Oliver, “If you want to go, we can.”  
“Yea,” Oliver nodded his agreement. “I’d like that. When are we leaving, because we all definitely need showers.”  
Harry laughed in agreement. “We’re all meeting at the gate at seven, so I guess we’ll see you then.”


	5. Striped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus wants to make sure Oliver is thinking of him before they go to dinner with Harry, so he gives him a little surprise.

Oliver got out of the shower, feeling refreshed and only a little stiff. He walked over and started looking through his wardrobe. Hearing footsteps, he looked up to see Marcus coming through the doorway, a towel draped around his narrow hips. Oliver’s eyes lingered on his exposed tattoos before meeting his eyes. Marcus walked over and lightly caressed Oliver’s collarbone. His fingers trailed down to the little collar necklace, a pleased smile on his lips. He pushed Oliver back until he bumped into the bed. 

“Do we have time to play?” Oliver asked, his voice husky with need. “Sir.” His prick was already stirring under Marcus’s heated gaze. 

“I always have time for you, pet,” Marcus growled against his neck. “I would like to give you a reminder of me to keep you occupied through dinner this evening. If you’d like me too.”

Oliver was curious, wondering exactly what Marcus had in mind. “What did you have in mind, Sir?”

Marcus turned to Oliver’s wardrobe. He pulled a long, black belt free. It must have belonged to him, because Oliver didn’t recognize it as his own. “Do you keep lube in here? If not, we have some in the other bedroom.” Oliver reached into the bedside table and handed him a small tub of lubricant. “Good boy,” Marcus whispered, trailing his fingers along Oliver’s jaw. He wrapped his hand around the back of Oliver’s neck and pulled him into a hard kiss. Sucking his lips and pulling a startled moan from his lips. “Turn around and bend over the bed. What is your safe word?”

“Lemons,” Oliver said over his shoulder as he bent over the bed. 

Marcus barked out a laugh at that, “Why lemons?”

“Because if I don’t like it, I’m going to be sour about it. Sir.”

Marcus laughed softly as he pulled the towel from Oliver’s waist. “Lemons,” he chuckled. “I like it.” He started massaging Oliver’s plump, round ass cheeks. His hands warming up Oliver’s skin. Oliver was becoming soft and pliant under him, leaning into his hands, waiting for the next thing to happen. When he removed his hands, Oliver braced himself, not knowing what was coming. He relaxed when he heard the lid pop off the jar of lube. It took only a moment before Marcus was working a finger into him. When the second was added, Oliver groaned and angled his hips so Marcus could get deeper. “You’re such a greedy little thing, pet.” 

Marcus started scissoring his fingers to open Oliver up more. When he brushed his prostate, Oliver would moan and flex his hips trying desperately to get more friction. But Marcus wouldn’t give in. He was going slow and working Oliver into a compliant puddle. 

Oliver tried to rock his hips to get friction from the bed beneath him against his prick. He heard a short whistling sound and a belt strapped across his ass. It shocked him at first, but it wasn’t entirely painful. When the belt licked his skin a second time, he cried out, his rigid prick bobbing under him leaving a string of precum on the sheets. Marcus cracked the belt across his ass three more times before massaging his stinging cheeks. “Do you enjoy that, me pet?”

“Yes Sir,” Oliver groaned. He was surprised that he had liked it. He felt close to cumming already and his ass was sensitive to every touch as Marcus caressed his skin. 

“Would you like another round, my pet?” Marcus purred, leaning down to kiss his along his back. 

“Yes, Sir,” Oliver begged. “Please.”

The belt licked his skin in another volley of blows. Striping along his ass and thighs. He was trying to focus when Marcus shoved his fingers back into his ass and started thrusting rapidly. “Don’t cum or you’ll be punished,” Marcus hissed as his legs started to shake. He removed his fingers and lined up his prick, thrusting in hard and fast without giving Oliver a chance to adjust. He set a brutal pace, his thighs hitting the belt marks on Oliver’s thighs. His hands gripped his sensitive ass, using him for leverage to fuck him harder. One hand reached forward, gripping Oliver’s neck and pulling him upright. He buried his face in Oliver’s neck and bit the soft dip between his neck and shoulder. 

Oliver’s prick bobbed in the air, swinging as Marcus brutalised his neck and ass. Precum was dripping freely as he tried to maintain control of his own body. “Fuck, Ollie,” Marcus moaned as he pulled away from his neck. “You’re so fucking perfect for me. Do you know that?” He wrapped his hand around Oliver’s prick, rubbing lube over it. Stroking rapidly, he hissed in Oliver’s ear, “Cum for me.” 

Oliver cried out as hot jets of cum shot across the bed. His overly stimulated body shaking, Marcus the only thing holding him up. Strong arms wrapped around his chest, squeezing tightly as Marcus spilled his own pleasure into him. When he finally stopped pulsing inside Oliver, he laid him onto his side and curled up around him. They both breathed rapidly for several moments, trying to regain their breath.

Marcus kissed his neck before going into the bathroom. Oliver heard the shower running and knew Marcus was going to bathe him again. He considered protesting, but it never did anything but make Marcus grumpy. His eyes drifted shut as he listened to the soothing sound of the water. They opened abruptly as he was lifted from the bed and carried into the bathroom. Marcus stood him up in front of the mirror. “Would you like to see?” 

Oliver shot him a puzzled look when Marcus turned him and handed him another mirror. He held it up and could see his ass and legs in the other mirror. Pink and red marks striped his skin. Lightly on his thighs but more across his ass. Marcus looked exceedingly proud of himself. “Your skin holds color so perfectly,” Marcus beamed at him. He took the mirror and pulled him into the shower, bathing him carefully as if he was cherished. It felt more intimate than anything else they had done and Oliver worried about losing his heart to Marcus along with everything else.


End file.
